into the sun, all memory returns
by Xelly-chan
Summary: Kakarot's heart is buried in the Earth's soil. Vegeta tries to cope with that.
1. steal the rhythm out from my heart

Fandom: DBZ/ Dragon Ball  
Characters: Vegeta/Goku(Kakarot)  
Word Count: 964  
Warnings: AU, Pining, unbeta'd

Summary: "They don't deserve to die," Kakarot says, always his mother's son. But he's also Bardock's boy

KakaVege Week, Jan 30th: Long distance relationship 遠距離恋愛

Notes: Uhhhhhh. Mild Saiyan's Survive AU/Goku stays Kakarot AU. He's Prince Vegeta's unofficial lover, relatively high ranking despite his class because of his strength, but deeply unsatisfied with being a glorified space pirate with militaristic trappings. He wants to fight and have adventures, but conquering and colonizing planets just doesn't really fulfill him.

He has some pull and gets himself sent to space boonies to do some info gathering on potential target planets, finds earth, finds himself enamored with it and just...forgets to go back. Meanwhile, Vegeta is freaking the fuck out back home and has Goku's crew + Raditz go track him down and bring him back. Of course they find him and Goku goes back, but...who knows if he'll stay, he sure doesn't.

Also happy birthday to me!

* * *

The stars fall into the ocean, bright and neverending on its black, sleeping body.

"Commander?" Broly's quiet voice creaks out in the darkness, rusty and awkward, just a little bit endearing.

Kakarot watches the horizon a little longer as if he can pick out one single star system among millions. When Broly clears his throat shyly, Kakarot pulls himself away from the shore's edge, dusting the sand from his armor. "How many times do I have to tell you, Dad's the Commander, not me," he says, gently chiding.

"But..." Broly's big, even for a saiyan warrior, so it's just a little strange to see him shuffle around so self consciously. "That *_s_ your rank, isn't it?" He asks, subtly brushing his inner wrist against the green fur tied around his waist. Kakarot noticed both the uniform violation and the nervous habit but made it a point to play oblivious to it. And then he had made an extra point to keep it from being a problem for any of the senior staff who were more inclined to make a fuss. His brother accused him of taking advantage of his _special privileges_.

Kakarot smiles, guileless. "Officially, I guess." He scratches his cheek, then laces his hands behind his head and begins walking towards the ship. "Are we ready to take off now?"

Broly's heavy, hesitant steps followed closely behind his, the wet sanding pulling at their boots. "Yes. Almost. Are you happy to be leaving?"

Tilting his head back to gaze wistfully at the sky, Kakarot made a thoughtful sound. His tail unfurls from his waist, sweeping through the scraggly greenery growing from the sandy beach. "Were you happy to leave Vampa?" He asks, not unkind.

They are nearing the ship now, the distortion from its cloaking field visible even in the dark.

"Yes. No." Broly, says. He sounds very young.

Touching the taller saiyan's arm, Kakarot breathes, "Yeah, me too buddy."

This planet is beautiful.

Lush, vast, diverse.

And so, so, so far away.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, little brother?" Raditz asks, doubtful. He's a cynic like that. "You're technically abandoning your mission. You get away with a lot, but do you really think you can have your way this time?"

The earth is a small, blue jewel from the ship's viewing deck, and Kakarot closes it gently between his palms like something treasured. Like their father cradling their mother's hands in his. Like rough fingertips brushing the dip of Kakarot's spine on hazy, pink-hued mornings, watery light filtering through the fine, gauzy curtains and into the prince's chambers.

"They don't deserve to die," Kakarot says, always his mother's son. But he's also Bardock's boy, just like his brother, so he says, "The cost of colonizing earth would barely break even, and that's only if we salvage all available resources and devalue its status as a garden world. There wouldn't be any point."

"That's not your call to make," Raditz says, mildly. Maybe it's been too many years since they've seen each other, but Raditz doesn't argue further, just raps his knuckles on Kakarot's armor. "You look better in armor than those orange rags, little brother."

Space travel isn't all that glamorous. Or instantaneous. Restlessness bites at Kakarot's heels. All the saluting men and Raditz's careful, watching eyes make Kakarot feel claustrophobic.

He misses the sky, even as they sail through galaxies. Sunset and sunrise made the earth's sky look like Vegetasei's, red and deep, but the wind always smelled sweeter. Kakarot had loved the sky when it looked like that, despite the homesick ache he got in the pit of his belly.

He spends most of his time in his quarters, looking over years old communications that piled up in his absence or down below in the hold with Broly, who's clumsy silence is strangely comforting.

"Do you miss anyone back there?"

Kakarot sprawls across an uncomfortable, ancient cot left amongst the cargo, and hums. "Back where?"

Broly brushes the green pelt again, nervously fiddling with it between his wide, flat hands. "Home."

"Which home?" Kakarot laughs, softly. Then, just as honestly, says, "Yes. I miss them all."

They arrive with little fanfare.

Mom cries. Dad huffs, "Gine, it's only been ten years."

Raditz had left to go be debriefed sometime ago, not quite surrendering all his duties even though Kakarot is back now. He's fine with it, he's never been fond of the paperwork or the titles. He's always hated being apart of the rank and file.

Some saiyans try to squeeze him for juicy gossip, searching for the reason why Kakarot was gone for so long. He had to have some kind of interesting war story, didn't he? What else would keep him away for so long?

But there isn't much to say, so Kakarot says nothing, just laughs and scratches the back of his head.

Of course, that doesn't work for everyone. Especially not _him_.

"Did you miss me?" Kakarot asks lightly, ready to dodge Vegeta's attacks.

Vegeta is furious. Incandescent with rage, really. Kakarot smiles. "I'm glad you're still in good health, prince."

Vegeta thunders and roars, blasting the area with the heat of his anger. Eventually, his anger ashes itself out into smoldering embers, his fists clenched in the fabric of Kakarot's undersuit and his teeth at Kakarot's throat. "You were gone for so long. I thought you died." Vegeta snorts, nipping viciously at tender skin. "It would have served you right."

Kakarot's eyes crease with an easy grin, relaxing and letting his prince do as he pleased. "I wasn't dead, just sightseeing."

His smile is devoured by Vegeta's hungry, jealous mouth, rough finger's shredding his uniform with impatience. "Sightsee a little closer to home, clown."

Kakarot laughs but does not ask which home.


	2. standing there with nothing on

Fandom: DBZ/ Dragon Ball  
Characters: Vegeta/Goku(Kakarot), King Vegeta, Bardock  
Word Count: 996  
Warnings: Pining, Possessive behavior

Summary: "Not everything is about control, Kid."  
Kakavege week, Feb 1st: Stop staring 見つめていし

Notes: Remember when I said "unofficial lover"? I meant that in more ways than one.

* * *

"Are you ever going to let me out of your sight?" asks Kakarot, staring up at the vaulted ceiling from his place, splayed out decadently on Vegeta's rumpled bed. His voice is light, expression dozing, but Vegeta has learned not to take Kakarot's careless exterior at face value.

He tugs on his gloves, snapping the leather into place, "When you cease being an unredeemable idiot." Vegeta pulls on his cape with a flourish, snapping it into place brusquely.

Kakarot makes an amused sound, rolling to his side and propping up his head on his arm. His tail sways lazily in the air, his mouth curving into a sly smile. "So by your standards, never?"

Vegeta growls.

"Your father wants to see you." He says, instead. He's finished dressing, but he finds himself lingering. The sun has long since risen, and there's no reason for him to stay any longer, but Vegeta cannot will his legs to move away. He watches Kakarot shift amongst the sheets, rubbing his cheek against Vegeta's pillow, his skin smooth and marked with teeth and finger-shaped bruises. "He sounds impatient."

Kakarot laughs, "Well, I'm sure he is. You've been keeping me hostage for a week. I haven't even had the chance to be debriefed." He pauses, a wry grin crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Well, in a manner of speaking."

"Tsk. I expect you back before the day's end." Vegeta says, the words curdling in his mouth. The last thing he sees before he sweeps out of his chambers is Kakarot's sloppy, casual salute and a flash of naked thighs where the ruined sheets hike up.

He's distracted.

He's been distracted for the past decade, though he loathes to admit it. His father has no such problems.

The King sighs, the gold on his breast rings dully with the movement. "If I'd known you'd still be so preoccupied with the return of Bardock's spawn, I would have rathered he stay lost than deal with your renewed obsession."

Vegeta clenches his fists, unseen underneath the table, face stony. "You'd be fine with losing an exceptional soldier?"

The King waves his hand, frowning. "We lose soldiers all the time, that is the way of a warrior race. One soldier, no matter how strong, is no great loss. You'd do well to remember that, Vegeta."

Vegeta stays silent, staring coldly at the table top, his fists numb and cold in his lap.

"Why did you leave?" He asks, murmuring the question into Kakarot's warm shoulder. Kakarot's skin tastes like salt and something sweet, so Vegeta presses his mouth to the vulnerable curve of his throat and scrapes his teeth there.

Kakarot stirs sleepily, braiding their legs together and slipping his hand over Vegeta's where it rests possessively above his stomach. "I was curious."

Vegeta's hand twitches beneath Kakarot's, his arm tensing for a moment. He stares at the shapeless darkness in the room, Kakarot's scent heavy and warm and content in the confines of the bed. It's an unpleasant contrast with the ice building around his ribcage. His hands, bare and strange without his glove, tighten around Kakarot's waist, short nails digging into tender skin.

"Not everything is about control, _kid_," Bardock tells him. He doesn't have clearance to this part of the shipyard, but here he stands none the less, leaning carelessly on top of a console, smoking idly and watching the coming and going of shuttles. "But I suppose that's not something a Vegeta heir would understand very well."

Bardock breathes around a cloud of smoke and ash, his hands steady around his cigarette. Vegeta hates how alien his face is, how hard and angular, with its scars and unsmiling mouth. Vegeta shoots him a disgusted look. "I wouldn't presume to know anything about the Vegeta line if I were you. Otherwise, you might find yourself missing a tongue."

Bardock barks a mean laugh, "I'm going to _presume_ that you'd never threaten Kakarot's tongue." He snubs out his cigarette on the console, burning a black mark into the screen.

"It would be faster to kill you than court marshal you, _Commander_," Vegeta says, voice dangerously low as he stalks closer along the gangway. "I won't tolerate disrespect, even from you."

More amused than cowed, Bardock shrugs, crossing his arms across his broad chest. "Is Kakarot the exception to that too?"

Vegeta finds Kakarot again underneath the atrophic oasis that once made up the Tuffle's birth cradle. The ancient, crystalized cadavers of giant, hollowed trees stood like great pillars, surrounding the deep, cool, aqueduct.

"A strange place to train." He says, feigning casualness. His heart beats hard under his armor, a drumbeat against the royal crest.

"This place is so _blue_," Kakarot whispers, awed and wistful. He dips his fingers into the cool waters, then begins to strip off his uniform. "I saw so much blue while I was away, I'd forgotten something like that could exist here."

Vegeta seethes. He wants to say: "How could you leave?"

He wants to say: "Why didn't you tell me you were going?"

He wants to say: "I won't let you go."

He fires a blast, energy boiling away at the water where it skims across the surface, shattering the fossilized trees.

Kakarot pauses, still in his pants and boots, casting a wary look at the smoldering groove marring such an ancient, untouched place. "That's not very nice, Vegeta." He says, giving Vegeta a flat, unimpressed look.

"I'm not a very nice saiyan." Vegeta sneers, prowling close until they stood nose to nose, stance wide and aggressive. His fur is bristling, tail whipping and lashing in the air. Pins burrow beneath Vegeta's fingertips, working underneath skin and muscle to the very marrow of him, the urge to fight and conquer and _keep_ burns in his blood.

Kakarot blinks, his head tilting to the side and looks, truly _looks_ at Vegeta. At length, he nods. A smirk carves his lush mouth into something sharp. "No, you're not."


	3. and the lights, they glow

Fandom: DBZ/ Dragon Ball  
Characters: Vegeta/Goku(Kakarot), hinted Bulma/Kakarot, Yamcha, Kami  
Word Count: 1169  
Warnings: Polymory, Silly boys

Summary: Kakarot wonders if he has a thing for difficult people.  
Kakavege week Feb 2nd:  
Shut up! だまね  
Making wishes お祈りする  
Impulsive 使用動的な

Notes: Vegeta and Kakarot kinda-sorta-not quite have an open relationship, in that neither one of them have said that they're *exclusive* per se...despite only ever sleeping with each other, knowing all of each other's quirks, and pine for each other whenever they're not stationed together.

That being said, you can't *not* smooch an alien when the chance presents itself.

This entry is basically a "how we got here" segment for the story. Idk. It's longer but it feels weaker, if only because I'm on a time crunch and had to cut out a lot of scenes where Kakarot is walking the earth, slowly burying pieces of his heart in the soil. Also, reverse pining.

* * *

"This is beneath you."

Kakarot inclines his head but doesn't look away from his datapad where he's scrolling through star systems and unnamed planets.

"This is _children's_ work." Vegeta snarls, pacing his quarters, restless and irritated.

Expanding his search even farther out, Kakarot hums, "Then it'll be like a vacation, don't you think?" His lips curve into an impish smile, his tail snagging Vegeta around the thigh as he passes by. Kakarot pulls the prince close, dropping the datapad to the wayside to real him in by his cloak clasps, nipping at Vegeta's stern mouth. "_I_ think you could benefit from one."

"The frontlines would benefit from you _being there_," Vegeta says, arch. His lip curls back, revealing a sharp canine.

Kakarot's grin flags, like a candle blown by the wind. "Which frontline?"

Which battle, which enemy, which cause.

All of them, any of them.

(Kakarot is tired of each and every one)

Kakarot licks into Vegeta's mouth before he can answer, having heard it all before. Vegeta rumbles against his lips, part growl, part moan, hands harsh where they grip his jaw and tilt him up for it. His breath is hot, it tasted like the scorching sun and his lips carried the history of their people. Vegeta kisses the way he fights, ruthless and unyielding.

Sometimes Kakarot worries that Vegeta will scrape himself raw, whittle himself down to hollow rage and baked bones.

(_we are saiya, we are warriors, we will outlive the stars_)

Kakarot pulls his prince down into the cushions with him, hooking his legs around Vegeta's narrow waist, seeking heat and pressure. He bites at Vegeta's mouth, tracing his tongue along the seam of his lips. "If you want to fight, we can fight," Kakarot presses a chaste peck on the corner of Vegeta's mouth. "If you want me to keep you company, just say so."

He smiles, bright and beckoning, then laughs when Vegeta groans and curses, pulling off their undersuits.

It never stops amusing Kakarot how easy it is to redirect Vegeta's temper. You're so predictable, he thinks, fond. His chest warms, feeling full, and a little caved in. He's set to leave in the morning, so he'll make the most of _right now_.

"So I guess there are signs of life up in the stars, huh?" Bulma says, tucking a length of blue hair behind her ear. She meets Kakarot's smile with a smirk, her hip knocking into his; she looks fearless to him. "I don't think 'intelligent' is the right descriptor, though."

Kakarot laughs and laughs. "You're probably not wrong."

Bulma is amusing and strange and curiously beautiful just like the planet she lives on. He likes the sound of her voice and the color of her hair, her wit and her selfishness; how she alternates between crass and class, all attitude and academic discovery. Kakarot wonders if he has a thing for difficult people.

"So spaceman," she says, sliding her soft arm through his, the blunt ends of her blue hair whispering against his bicep. "What brings you to down to earth?"

Kakarot turns her trailing hand over, running his fingers over her callouses and manicured nails. He likes the contrast of work hardened palms and jewel red paint. It reminds him of the crimson dyed sand that makes up Vegetasei's plains, gleaming spires of metal and glass architecture puncturing the cloudless sky. "To explore, maybe." He says, fitting their hands together, palm to palm, fingertip to fingertip.

Her eyebrow raises, and she leans in close, "I hope you're not setting up for any invasion plans, then."

Kakarot grins. "There's nothing in the data files, so I wouldn't worry."

The mountains are high, the heavens are far, and the king is further. Kakarot laughs and breaths cold, clear air, streaking through the thin atmosphere. He could fly for one hundred years and the landscape on this planet would forever enchant him, so new and so alien.

The taste of ozone dances on his tongue, thunder rolls below him and lightning claws after his wake. He howls with the wind and plummets into the eye of the tempest, reveling in the storm, his armor streaked and battered by rain. The clouds cling to his skin, blur his eyes, and attempt to swallow him whole.

His blood sings, molten.

"Does this place truly delight you, my boy?" asks a withered voice. The gale seems to bow to it rather than devour it. Kakarot wonders if an emperor has descended.

Arms outstretched, eyes closed, chest heaving, Kakarot licks the rain from his lips. "This planet is as ferocious as it is pretty."

When he saw the earth from orbit, it stirred something from within him. Like the full moon in the middle of battle, adversaries on all sides; like Vegeta's hands on his bare skin, teeth at his throat.

"I assume that _would_ appeal to one such as you, child of Yasai," says God, descending from his throne and garden.

Raditz cursed the stars every time they were stationed together, feeling put upon as his brother's keeper, trying and failing to reign him in.

Vegeta called him reckless and chased jealously after him anyway. Hands clawing, eyes hungry and mouth snarling.

Kakarot thinks of dark, covetous eyes and kisses Yamcha and Bulma anyway. He giggles when Yamcha makes a strangled whimper and follows his mouth; indulges Bulma when she pulls him down by his collar and demands another. He loves them because they live here, but he does not take it any further. The earth sleeps in their bones and Kakarot does not belong there.

Maybe Bulma understands because she doesn't ask for more than what he's wordlessly offering. She cards her fingers through his hair, then traces down the angle of his jaw to the bow of his bottom lip. Her eyes are as blue as the sea after the storm, they glitter in the light of the bonfire behind them.

"Oh jeez," Yamcha squeaks. "I can't believe I kissed an alien before I kissed a girl."

Bulma snickers against Kakarot's lips, her fingers curious and quick where they explore his clavicles. "Congratulations on reaching fourth base."

The morning crests over the hills and valleys of a country Kakarot doesn't know the name of, his hand outstretched for a body that isn't there.

He blinks the sleep from his eyes, fingers closing around cold sheets and dewy air.

Kakarot dreamt of his death. Paradise was filled with golden clouds and infinite stars. He dreamt of Vegeta's death, and hell was an empty star system, an unmarked grave, and a pierced heart.

He breathed through a thick throat, tossing his lonely arm across his sore eyes.

"Wishes are such cruel things," Kami says, kind without pity.

"I wondered what else was out there," Kakarot tells him

Kami's weathered hands clasp neatly above his robes, eyes somber. He asks, "What did you find?"

Kakarot chokes on a wet laugh. His thoughts and heart drifted from each other. "The gravity is too light, here."


	4. but you fade away

Fandom: DBZ/ Dragon Ball  
Characters: Vegeta/Goku(Kakarot), Toma, Broly, Caulifla/Kale, Cabba, Celipa  
Word Count: 2222  
Warnings: Trench warfare, pining, onscreen naughty bits

Summary: He thinks of blue, of sky and sea; of little lives and vast, sleeping land.

or

"I'm very tired of destroying things."

Notes: This will be the end of this series I think, but not the end of the AU. Though, I don't really know when I'll have the next entry anywhere close to being put up.

I've decided au takes place in a self-indulgent timeline I made some time ago, in order to better piece together another bigger idea I've been toying with for a while.

Another thing I've been toying with for a while is my WWI obsession. The Battle of Vimy Ridge was part of the Battle of Arras, which the two planets Kakarot visits are thinly veiled references to. In name only, mostly. Nothing else really resembles it. I stopped myself from getting too into describing trench warfare since I torture the poor people in my gore/guro/truecrime discord enough.

* * *

"Is the honeymoon getting tedious already?" Raditz mutters under his breath, and Kakarot thinks he's lucky Vegeta isn't here or there'd be no way to guarantee his bother's continued survival.

Finishing up with his paperwork and sending off years overdue reports, Kakarot hums, blithe, "Pops just messaged me; the mission with dad is going well. He says it reminds him of the first planet they busted together."

"Don't be cute," Raditz says, knocking the back of Kakarot's skull with his datapad. "I'm not talking about the geezers and you know it. You've been hiding from Vegeta." His voice is edging on an accusation, but Kakarot knows his brother.

"Are you fishing for gossip?" Kakarot raises an eyebrow, voice high with amusement. Then, because he knows it will rile up his brother, Kakarot clicks his tongue, mock disapproving. "Is being an officer that boring you have to snoop in your baby brother's sex life?"

Raditz makes a disgusted sound, swatting Kakarot harder and cursing when all it does is make him laugh. "Ugh. Just report for duty with the team, you little prick."

They fall into bed without preamble.

Vegeta's mouth is hot and sharp.

Kakarot is spread across the grand bed, bare except for his rucked up shirt and an arm warmer, Vegeta slotted up close between his legs.

"I don't want you to go," Vegeta murmurs into the wet press of their mouths. He sounds spoiled and petulant, and somewhere beneath that, raw and honest.

"I don't want to go either," Kakarot says. It feels, just a little bit, like a lie wrapped in a different sort of truth.

Vegeta's cock is a heavy, burning line against Kakarot's thigh, their hips rolling together in a slow, staggering motion, all friction and pressure. Kakarot traces the tense muscles of Vegeta's neck and shoulders, pulls him in for another kiss, slick and open-mouthed. Vegeta melts into the kiss, the solid mass of his body pressing Kakarot into the mess of cushions scattered across the bed. Slick, calloused fingers drag over the curve of Kakarot's hip, to the softer skin of his inner thighs, brushing teasingly close to that aching part of him.

Kakarot sighs, flutters lingering kisses along Vegeta's jaw, his throat, his cheekbones. Anywhere. _Everywhere._

"I'll meet you there," Vegeta promises, catching Kakarot's mouth, canines snagging against tender flesh. Copper and iron blooms over Kakarot's tongue, his blood bright and red where it drips down their chins to stain the sheets.

He wants to make Vegeta promise to not chase after him, wants to tell Vegeta he isn't going to disappear. But the words dissolve in his throat before they even form and all Kakarot can do is reach down and grab Vegeta's wrist, wordlessly guiding his fingers inside.

Kakarot groans, breath hitching, his hips arching off the bed to press up against Vegeta's hand. Thick, blunt fingers slot up inside him, deep and intimately familiar, pressing up against that hot, shocky spot. His nails scrape down Vegeta's back, leaving behind red, angry lines. "I'll be back, I'll be back, I'll be back," he gasps out, like a mantra. Vegeta swallows each syllable, and Kakarot wonders if Vegeta will keep each one etched across his ribcage until they meet again.

The noise of battle crushes in all around them and Kakarot lunges out from the position the regiment dug themselves in, drawing a hail of fire. Power coalesces between his palms, bright and snapping. He unleashes it towards enemy artillery, scouring a bloody wound through three lines of trenches.

"Over the top!" Someone shouts, a swell of saiyans tears over the lashed, torn landscape towards the enemy, teeth gnashing and claws ready to rend flesh and armor apart.

Caulifla hefts herself up beside him, unconcerned despite the battle raging around them. There's a cut along her cheek, her armor streaked and filthy with mud and ichor. "That's pretty stupid, huh?" She says, nodding at the overrun trenches across the devastated noman's land. "Digging in, creating the perfect penned in killing space for an enemy who excels at close quarters the moment your defense goes down."

Kakarot laughs, mirthless. He turns his eyes away from the lines of falling trenches. "Slowing us down was their only chance," he says, smile hollow and gaze distant on the bruise-colored sky. "What better way to slow down an enemy than by making the war static, pinning both sides down to fixed positions."

"That'd work on softer species," Caulifla snorts, unimpressed.

"It'd work on _most_ species," Kakarot corrects with a sigh, sliding back down the parapet and into the muddy trench. Throwing waves of soldiers into a killing field wasn't how most armies preferred to use their men, but it was what saiyans were best at with only a fraction of the casualties.

Caulifla calls down, "Want me to handle mop-up, Commander?"

Kakarot made a vague motion to carry on, and continued into the support lines, muck and blood pulling at his boots.

Inside the communications dugout, Kale and Broly monitored the terminals and map holos with blinking unit formations.

Muting the coms on her scouter, Kale looks up when Kakarot enters, her brow furrowed. "We had an incoming call from the Aras battlefront; they're requesting back up."

Mouth thinning with barely restrained distaste, Kakarot strode towards the terminal. Gently nudging aside Broly with his hip, he took control of the console, his expression souring further as he opened the readout of commands and frontline updates from the other off-world campaigns. "The powers that be sure aren't sparing this star system, are they?"

Kale says, "High command don't want resources to fall into the Empire's hands." Her eyes are intent on the holo map, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she stares at the marker indicating a Lieutenant Commander, deep in enemy lines.

Broly rubs his fur wrap between thumb and forefinger, hands restless. He hesitates. A distant explosion rocks the dugout, sending down dirt from the earthen roof and onto their equipment. "Father says Cold would do worse."

Kakarot's mouth twists into something that was too hollow to be called a smile. "That sure sounds like Paragus."

To Kale's unspoken relief, he leaves her behind with full permission to aid Caulifla if she sees fit. Kakarot has no doubt Kale would tear out of operations the moment Caulifla's vitals so much as flagged.

It left him with Broly, sitting quiet and awkward as he guided their shuttle towards Aras' airspace. Kakarot leans over the middle console, knocking their shoulders together, all easy camaraderie.

"It's fine," Kakarot says, smile thin but gentle. "I know."

Broly breathes. His fingers flex on the yoke. "Somethings... don't change."

Their shuttle groans around them as they breach the atmosphere, flames lick their viewing window as they plummet towards the land like a falling star of bad fortune. The metal gives a grateful screech when they burst into cloud cover, their instruments tagging onto friendly coms as they come in range of the battlefront.

From the starboard viewing port, Kakarot catches a bird's eye view of the entire front. The battles raged on with a bloody glow, each one like smoldering embers pockmarking the torn land. This was a mobile war, unlike the front they left behind on Vime. Kakarot could see multiple saiyan units thrash themselves upon the enemy's lines in seething waves.

Kakarot grimaces, glancing away. "Yeah. I know."

Cabba greats them, when they set down. He looks tired but happy to see them, snapping off a respectful salute even though he technically outranks Kakarot. "Commander Kakarot!"

"Save the Commander thing for my dad, Cabba," Kakarot says, grinning faintly. "He's here, isn't he?"

Cabba nods rapidly, his colonel insignia at odds with his youthful, eager face. "Commander Bardock is in the northern sector of this planet, along with the rest of his team. They left coordinates for you to rendezvous with them, you should have received them on your scouter when you reached this base."

The air is thick with the smell of burning things and charged with energy from both power blasts and artillery. It sours Kakarot's stomach after a decade of relative peace, even despite the way his blood heats up in anticipation of a fight. "Right. Broly, stay here with Cabba, find Raditz and see what his orders are. I'll go on ahead."

He doesn't wait for an answer, kicking off into flight with a burst of power, honing in on his father's team without a scouter. He streaks across the acrid, smoke blanketed landscape, ignoring the ongoing battles. Kakarot doesn't interfere with the ground war, even when the Arasans take aim at him.

Though the Vime had a much larger fighting force, the Arasans have better tech. As Kakarot flew over the skirmishing armies, he felt the tell-tale draw of Energy Siphons eating away at his battle power. As sturdy as saiyans were, without access to their full power the playing field could be leveled out. Battle outcomes becoming less decisive.

Kakarot's mouth twisted unhappily and he put on a burst of speed. The landscape beneath him growing increasingly snowy and destroyed, showing signs of retreat and chase from two opposing forces. Before long, a large military complex came into view; its large, sturdy structure rocking with explosions in an ongoing fight.

Pulling to a stop, Kakarot surveyed the area, gaze narrowing on the upper levels of the complex. Just then, Celipa came crashing up through the roof. With a fierce snarl, she caught herself in midair and plunged back down, her hands lit up with a powered attack as she punched a new hole in the roof of the complex.

Glancing up at the cold, distant grey sky, Kakarot thinks of mountains dreaming in a blue, peaceful planet. Wistfulness pricks at his chest, but he brushes it aside and descends after her and into a cacophony of violence.

In the fury of blasts and attacks, Celipa catches sight of him. She tosses him a feral smile, her gloves sodden red as she tears apart her prey. "Hey, squirt. Joining the fun and games?" Her tail lashes out behind her, cracking another enemy's nose when he tried to strike her blindspot.

From a crater in the floor, reaching several levels down, Toteppo pauses where he's snapping the neck of Arasan, calling up towards Kakarot with a warm voice, "Welcome, Little Commander. It's good to have you back."

Kakarot smiles thinly, throat thick with the scent of death, and doesn't reply.

Kakarot is his mother's son and his father's boy.

But he's also his pop's kid.

Toma is just the same as Kakarot left him, give or take a few scars. But he has the same wry smile, the same warm scent, and the same enveloping embraces. "I missed you, mini-me. Sorry I didn't catch your homecoming." Toma's wide, rough hands ruffle Kakarot's hair, then cup the back of his neck and bring their foreheads to rest against each other.

It's an old, familiar motion. Like mom's easy hugs or dad's awkward shoulder pats, loved and dear.

Kakarot laughs and grins, "You didn't miss much," He pulls away, half-heartedly fluffing his bangs back into place. "I was kept for _questioning_ for a while."

Toma gives him a slow once over, lingering bemusedly on the mouth shaped bruises peaking from under Kakarot's collar. Old compared to the rest of the bruises littering Kakarot's body. "Is that right?" He says more than asks, bemused. But he's not prying like Raditz or mean spirited like Bardock, content to leave it alone without further comment.

Gratefulness touches the edges of Kakarot's smile.

"You must have seen a whole lot," Toma says, not quite asking, not quite pushing, just simple acknowledgment.

Kakarot feels oddly youthful walking alongside Toma, even amongst the burnt-out husk yet another military complex. He can almost ignore the smell of charred bodies and discharged firearms. The sun has sunk low in the frozen horizon, and Kakarot can hear the rest of the Land Shark team laughing around a skimpy campfire, it's flames buffeted by icy winds.

All the team, except his father.

Kakarot huffs a quiet laugh, his breath clouding out in front of his face. "Not as much as you, but yeah. I think so."

The silence lulls peaceably between them, punctuated by the crunch of snow beneath their boots and the distant crack of explosions.

"Then," Toma begins, slow, "you saw just enough to make you wonder why you'd even bother to come back."

Kakarot falters. His boot nudges against a half-buried rifle, tipping him off balance, sending him stumbling forward. Toma keeps walking a few paces until he comes to a measured stop in front of Kakarot. There's a strange smile on his face, dark eyes far away. He seems unreal against the backdrop of a coal grey sky and a snow-covered wasteland, a light flurry of snow kicking up in the biting wind.

"I..."

Eyes wide, Kakarot feels knocked off kilter. This snow crusted place suddenly seems very small and very lonely. He thinks of blue, of sky and sea; of little lives and vast, sleeping land.

Kakarot clutches the space above his heart and laughs, a broken, lost sound. "I'm very tired of destroying things."

"It's alright," Toma's somber, understanding smile sinks into Kakarot's bones. His hand touches Kakarot's shoulder, "I know."

* * *

Notes: Funny side note about their theoretical ranks: Kakarot is the Commander son of a Commander who was the son of yet another Commander. Kakarot could have gone higher, but never did since he didn't want to go career. Bardock joined the military somewhat later than the norm, reached his current rank, but he actually wields the semi-official power of a Captain. Bardock's mom, Parsni, an OC, was a career officer and made it to Commander yet no further. Because of the class discrimination at the time, it's still a pretty impressive feat.

As for Kakarot's crew, the lineup and ranks are as follows:  
Raditz - Major  
Caulifla - Lieutenant Commander  
Kale - Lieutenant  
Broly - Sergeant

Cabba is Vegeta's cousin and a part of the royal family, but fairly young. Despite that, he's a Colonel.

Take this with a grain of salt because I'm just bullshitting the ranks and making up my own military hierarchy.


End file.
